


Four Hour Bug

by Toni_Lynne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toni_Lynne/pseuds/Toni_Lynne





	Four Hour Bug

You knew something wasn’t right the moment you sat up. Watching your bedroom spin, you took a deep breath and felt fire in your throat.

Standing slowly, you stumbled to the bathroom to look in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and you could tell by your flushed skin you were running a fever. 

“Damn it Dean!” you snarled, your voice raspy and the pain in your throat making your eyes water. 

Dean had been sick with strep throat for the last four days but you had done everything in your power to stay away from him. You refused to be in the same room he was in and you had walked around armed with sanitizing wipes rubbing down all doorknobs and handles. Apparently that wasn’t enough.

You were reaching for the toilet paper to blow your runny nose when you felt the room spin again. Slumping down to lay on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, you thought about going back to bed but you didn’t have the energy at the moment to move and the floor felt nice against your feverish skin.

You were starting to doze off when you heard the fluttering sound of wings in the bedroom. “I’m in here.”

Lucifer opened the door slowly, his expression going from amusement to concern when he saw you on the floor.  “Y/N!”

“I have Dean’s strep throat,” you moaned, a fit of coughing beginning as you spoke.

He knelt down beside you. “You should have prayed for me right away,” he said softly, soothing your sweaty hair back from your face before reaching out as if to touch your throat.

“Stop,” you said, “Don’t heal me.”

“Don’t heal you? Are you delirious? Of course I am going to heal you.”

You reached up to block his hand with yours, guiding it down to the floor. “Please don’t.”

“Why would you want to be sick?” Lucifer asked, genuine confusion in his tone.

“Dean bragged over and over when he was sick about how he didn’t let Cas heal him because he was tough enough to handle it.  If I let you heal me I won’t be tough enough to handle a simple virus and Dean will have a field day teasing me.”

Lucifer looked at you with an angry expression on his face. “So you would rather suffer than appear weak?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think I learned that from?”

Lucifer sighed, knowing you had a point. “Come on then,” he said, scooping you up in his blessedly cool arms. “Or is this against the rules also?”

“No, this is perfect,” you murmured, pressing your burning face against his neck.

Placing you on the bed, he snapped you out of the sweats and t-shirt you had worn to bed and into lounge shorts and a tank top.  You sighed in relief as air hit your feverish skin.

You watched him stomping around the room, bringing you the TV remote, a bottle of Tylenol, and tissues from the restroom before leaving the bedroom.   You had to smile, only your angel would pout because you wouldn’t let him heal you.

Returning a few moments later with a bottle of water and a glass of orange juice, he sat them on the table beside your bed. 

“I need to take care of something but I’ll be back in a few moments. Will you be okay? If you need me I am a prayer away.”

“I’ll be okay, thank you.”

After brushing a kiss across your forehead, Lucifer disappeared.

You tried to focus on the television, but you could hear Dean yelling at something from the front of the bunker. Standing up to go see what was going on, you felt everything flush hot and you quickly changed direction, barely making it to the restroom before you got sick.

Once there was nothing left in your stomach, you brushed your teeth and washed your face.  A light knocking on your door startled you and you managed to whisper, “Come in.”

Dean poked his head in and saw you walking out of the restroom. “You look like hell.”

You gave him a dirty look. “Help me back to bed, my legs are wobbly.”

He reached your side and guided you back to the bed, tucking the blanket around you. “Listen Y/N. I am sorry I said not letting an angel heal me made me tough. You are tough enough without suffering through an illness, okay? So let Lucifer heal you.”

You studied him a moment. “He just yelled at you, didn’t he?”

Dean shrugged. “More like threatened to rip me apart limb by limb if I didn’t convince you to let him heal you.”

“I’ll handle the archangel, your limbs are safe,” you muttered, coughing. “I am so hot though.”

Dean touched your forehead. “Y/N, you are burning up.” Dean frowned. “Maybe you _should_ let him heal you.”

“It’s a virus, I can deal with it.”

Dean nodded, patting your shoulder before leaving the room.

You tried to focus on the TV but you couldn’t stop shivering. Determined not to pray for Lucifer, you pulled another blanket up over your body and settled in to finish the trashy talk show you had on and find out who the father of the baby was.

You heard his wings and opened your eyes to see him standing beside the TV, an annoyed expression on his face. “I’m going to heal you.”

“I’m fine,” you rasped.

He settled on the bed beside you, reaching out to touch your face. “You are on fire.”

“I’m hot and then I’m cold,” you admitted. “Right now I’m roasting.”

“Come here,” he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.  You sighed in bliss, wrapping your legs around his.

“Feels so good,” you muttered. Kissing your hair, Lucifer stroked your back with the free hand that wasn’t cradling you. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, his arms tightening just a little as you slowly drifted off to sleep in his arms. 

Lucifer waited until he heard your breathing even out before reaching up to cup your throat, his grace moving through your body.

You woke up a few hours later alone. Reaching across the bed, you wondered where Lucifer went. Slowly you sat up, relieved to find the dizzy feeling was gone. When you swallowed, you realized the sore throat was gone as well. 

Looking over on your bedside table, you found a small sheet of paper with Lucifer’s handwriting.

_Must have been a four hour bug - L_

Shaking your head, you had to smile. You were annoyed that he had gone against your wishes and healed you, but your archangel loved you and that felt pretty damn good.

 


End file.
